The notes of melody arise!
I hold the cup with wine excelling,
And gaze upon thy radiant eyes,
Oh Hāfiz—never waste thy hours
Without the cup, the lute, and love
For ’tis the sweetest time of flowers
And none these moments shall reprove.
The nightingales around thee sing
It is the joyous feast of spring.”
As Hāfiz grew older he became attached to the Sufi[[276]] philosophy, and his poetry contained so many figurative allusions that the Mussulmans called his productions “the language of mystery,” others claim that even his most sensual poems are figurative and should be thus interpreted. Of his graver poems the following is the best: